Memory of Days to Come
by Once Upon a Whim
Summary: They lived through a lifetime and the aftermath. Here's what's next. [Wyatt/Lucy - post-alternate S1 ending]
1. Chapter 1

**Lucy and Wyatt are still in my head, and in this case would not stop bugging me about the 'what if' of a post-S1 world where Carol wasn't RH, RH was indeed obliterated by the Time Team's work, Amy came back, and everyone went back to their normal lives. Excuse the cheesy song tie-in; for whatever reason, it became the soundtrack for this fic in my head. Still working on other WIPs, including the _Timing_ epilogue, pinky-swear.**

* * *

**_Did you know that before you came into my life_**  
**_It was some kind of miracle that I survived_**

* * *

Lucy collapsed into her office chair with a flourish, her brow furrowed contemplatively as she did so. Most of her department's faculty meeting had been as routine and boring as they usually were, especially given that it was still summer.

Routine and boring. Except that last bit, just before they'd adjourned until next month. The chair had insisted someone help organize some little throwaway meeting. Lucy had stupidly volunteered, thinking that it could just be a webinar, then out of nowhere there was talk of people _going_ to an actual, physical, in-person workshop, plus planning meetings. Next thing she knew, she'd been shuffled off to the admin assistant's office, and suddenly she was the proud owner of a round-trip flight to San Diego. The first of a _few_ tickets to San Diego.

San Diego.

UC San Diego.

For a workshop on the role of women in the settling and founding of California.

That she was Stanford's representative for on the workshop's organizing committee.

A workshop.

In San Diego.

Which also happened to be just half an hour from Wyatt.

If he was even still at Pendleton, she reminded herself as she tried to get the notion of him out of her brain. Odds were that he'd already been shipped off on another mission a long time ago. And either couldn't tell her, or just… _hadn't_ told her. Which honestly made sense, considering that the sum total of their interaction since they'd all parted ways after getting Amy back was one hand's worth of bland texts and a few stray social media 'likes' here and there, mostly early on after he'd left town. It was actually more than he'd said he'd do, right? Just call if he ever needed a bossy know-it-all?

Which he didn't. Call, that is. Or need her. Or any other boring, bossy, clumsy, awkward, know-it-all nerd. In any way, shape, or form. Obviously.

After the mission to save Amy, which somehow, some _way_, had actually _worked_ – a fact that Lucy could still barely believe – Wyatt had just slipped away with hardly a word. Which, yes, had stung a little in the moment, but, to be fair, Lucy had been pretty focused on Amy. But she'd still figured that he would keep in touch.

And, sure, he had. Sort of. Certainly not as much as she'd have hoped given… Well, given what she'd thought he might have felt. Which he clearly didn't actually feel. Why would he? Again – boring, bossy, nerd…

So while Lucy might have had the irrational hope for more, he didn't owe her updates on his deployments, or on anything else in his life. And certainly not on that cryptic mention of possibilities back, well, _months_ ago at this point.

And yet… Lucy's thumb hovered over her phone's screen as she chewed her lower lip. And scrolled down to "Wyatt Logan – cell".

Should she say something?

She just really didn't know if she should.

If it had been any other guy, she'd dish to Amy and ask for her advice. But… Honestly, Lucy wasn't fully sure what things had been like during the timeframe that _this _Amy had lived.

No one else knew that she felt… whatever she felt for Wyatt. Well, maybe Jiya had a hunch, but even then, it wasn't anything Lucy had talked about with her. And it's not as if suddenly coming back to a healthy mother who had been hiding family secrets for decades and was accusing Lucy of throwing her life away at every turn had been particularly conducive to sharing about burgeoning feelings for the grieving widower at her new job. Not to mention the whole NDA thing, which was a good excuse for not saying a damn thing about anything to anyone, be it the job itself, guys, or otherwise.

But would she have let anything slip to Amy? What sorts of conversations had _this_ Amy had with her that Lucy didn't even know about?

Though when she'd asked Amy if she could invite Rufus and Wyatt to the podcast launch, Amy hadn't questioned it and had seemed to recognize them when they'd arrived. Which, if she'd known how Lucy was feeling about Wyatt, would not have been what Lucy would have expected.

So Lucy figured that she either hadn't gone to her sister at all about any feelings regarding Wyatt or that Amy had perhaps suspected something but that she'd denied it well enough that Amy had been convinced and just let the issue go.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have been campaigning so hard for Lucy to get out in the dating world again, right? If she'd known how ridiculously hung up Lucy already was on one particular soldier?

And it _was_ ridiculous, right? The way her stomach still did a little flip-flop when she thought of him? How, when Amy bugged her about not putting herself out there and checking her _okcupid_ profile more often, she still always felt her cheeks get warm as she recalled that kiss back in 1934? Not just ridiculous. Pathetic, right? She should be putting herself out there, moving on from… well, everything from the past year, really. And certainly moving on from a silly, one-sided, crush.

But her thumb tapped out a message anyway, as if it had a mind of its own, heedless of what Lucy was trying to convince herself.

_Hi, hope things are good with  
you. I have a meeting in San  
Diego in a couple weeks. Maybe  
we could get coffee or drink to  
catch up? _

Which sounded dumb, right? Too wordy? Too uptight and business-like? Too presumptive? It's not as if it was a given that he'd want to see her…

Quickly, she swiped around the screen, amending and adding to her initial message, hedging a bit.

_Hope things are good w you. I  
have a meeting in SD in a  
couple weeks. Coffee or drink  
to catch up? If you're free/still  
around._

Still, she studied the phone, wavering.

Nothing had ever actually happened between them. One kiss while playing a role. The barest hint at… something… when he said he wasn't ready to say good-bye. And then they'd gone to save her sister, and she'd been ever so grateful to him, and to Rufus, when it had worked, and then she'd invited them to meet Amy, but after he had, Wyatt had just sort of… disappeared, with only the barest of vague goodbyes.

And since then, he hadn't shown much of an inclination to even keep the lines of communication open. So why would she think that he'd want to _see_ her? It's not like they had anything in common aside from the time travel anyway, and with that over…

God, she hated that she was acting this way, stuck in a loop and wavering, obsessing over some guy. She hasn't been ten years old for a long time.

Lucy almost jumped out of her chair just then; her screen lit up with a text just as she'd almost talked herself into sending the stupid message to Wyatt.

Before she registered who it was, for a half-second, she irrationally panicked that it could have been Wyatt, as if she'd somehow accidentally sent something to him already.

But it was only Amy, letting her know that she'd be out that night with the guy she'd met over the weekend.

Because of course her little sister was having the luck with guys that Lucy had never really had, and never would, if she didn't either put herself out on a limb and feel things out with Wyatt, or just get over him altogether.

Lucy shot off a quick acknowledgment message to Amy, staring at her little sister's initial text.

And then, with a deep breath to bolster her resolve, she flipped back to her drafts and chose the limb.

* * *

**Wyatt Logan – cell**

\- 08/23/2017 Wed -

_Hope things are good w you. I  
have a meeting in SD in a  
couple weeks. Coffee or drink  
to catch up? If you're free/still  
around._

**3:38 PM**

* * *

Message sent.

Her stomach twisted into knots immediately.

Oh god. Now she'd be anxiously checking for a reply every three seconds. A reply that wouldn't even come if he'd been assigned to a mission and deployed to god knows where. Which he probably had.

Groaning inwardly, Lucy clenched her eyes shut. Deep breath again. At least it was close to the end of the day, not to mention summer. So no one would miss her if she headed out early.

Eyes open once more, she snatched up her totebag and buried the phone at the bottom. She dumped her notebook, agenda, and laptop on top of it.

Maybe with Amy out, she could go to a movie herself. Something long. Something that would require her to leave her damn phone alone for at least a couple of hours.

As Lucy headed out, locking up her office, she was half hoping that Wyatt would just say no and put her out of her misery. Then maybe she could finally get over him.

* * *

Wyatt took a slug of water from his bottle and sighed, absently regarding the rest of the group doing the same.

Another mundane PT session done. If nothing else, at least he'd be in the right shape whenever the Army got off its ass and figured out what they were going to do with him.

Which also meant he was facing another equally mundane night of forcing himself to spend a few hours on Duolingo. No, it wasn't an official task, but he wasn't stupid enough to presume that things like Farsi and Arabic were going to be enough anymore given the changing geopolitics lately. He hated that damn little owl with a passion, but if a mission came up in Korea or Russia, he was going to be ready. Or at least more ready than most of his doofus peers, many of whom, he noted, were currently trying to trip each other for no apparent reason.

He let out a bemused snort at their antics, knowing that a decade or so ago he'd have been right there with them. But that's not where they were now, were they?

With another sigh, he made his way over to one of the benches at the edge of the weight room where he'd left his keys and phone. And out of habit, he swiped his thumb over the phone's screen to check any notifications that had come in during their workout.

Checking may have been habit; stopping dead in his tracks when he did so, nearly dropping the phone, was not.

_Lucy._

Jesus, he missed her so much it ached. Which is why he'd been fighting tooth and nail to not even let himself think about her. Most days, it almost worked.

But today… Today she'd apparently decided, out of the blue, that she was coming down to San Diego and that she wanted to catch up.

"Yo, Logan," came a voice, shaking Wyatt from his stupor. "You comin' old man?"

Wyatt looked up, blinking. "Huh?"

A few of his younger cohorts chuckled from where they'd started to gather on their way out the door. "Dude," one snickered, "he is zoned _out_. "

"Right?" another exclaimed, "What's on that phone, man?"

"Nothing," Wyatt mumbled, hoping his ears weren't turning red. He didn't need this from those little shits. "I'm coming," he added, giving one last glance of disbelief down at Lucy's message.

An ill-advised last glance, given that it apparently distracted him enough that he didn't notice one of said dumb little shits hopping up to stand on the bench next to him and reading over his shoulder.

"Text from _Luuuucy_," the kid announced, in a sing-song, taunting tone. Which of course elicited a bunch of whoops and hoots from the rest of them. "Logan's finally got a girl," another teased.

"There's no girl," Wyatt muttered, pushing past them out of the gym.

"'_Lucy_' though?" he heard one of them wonder aloud behind him. "Yo man, sounds like something you call, like, a… puppy or a kitten or some shit like that."

"She's not a puppy," Wyatt snapped, unable to stop the reflex to correct them. "Or anything else," he added in a low grumble.

"Oooo, defensive," came the reply. And another voice chimed in, "Not such a monk after all, huh?" Still one more was loud enough that Wyatt could hear even as he tried to put more distance between himself and the group by heading for the parking lot, "Look at that – I've never seen him like that, man."

Mercifully, Wyatt's training partner, Nate – who actually happened to be a friend from a few years back, not to mention his ride that day given that they lived in the same apartment complex off-base – hadn't gotten far enough ahead of the rest of them to miss what was going on.

Backtracking a bit to chastise the younger soldiers, Nate glared at them. "Ok, enough," he warned. "See you assholes tomorrow."

Wyatt was grateful for the rescue; he didn't need that kind of annoying shit even in the most innocuous of circumstances. When he'd just received a text from Lucy? Hell no. "Thanks, man," he said, nodding in appreciation.

If Nate responded somewhere in the space of them walking to the car, getting in and driving off, Wyatt didn't even notice.

_Lucy._ Had _texted._ And was coming _here._

He really didn't know whether he was elated or devastated.

It had become pretty clear to him by the time they'd gone back to re-set things with Lucy's parents that he could no longer ignore the fact that he'd developed feelings for her. Pretty intense feelings, if he was going to be honest about it. The joy on her face when they'd returned to the present to find Amy's listing in Lucy's phone, replete with photos, texts, and call history? Wyatt had known more than ever that he wanted to be the person to make Lucy that happy all the time. And for the briefest second, he'd even entertained bringing that fact up to her to see where she stood on that sort of thing. But reality had hit hard when, to introduce her fellow Time Team members to her sister, Lucy had invited them to some party for Amy's podcast team for having been picked up by a bigger website. And yes, it had been a special event, not the normal day-to-day, but god… It was… _weird. _At least he'd had Rufus to hang out with, who had thankfully backed him up on the skepticism-front when the passed appetizers had turn out to be bizarre vegan concoctions with far too much reliance on avocados and cauliflower. But it wasn't so much the weird food… It was the trendy neighborhood, the whole podcast/downtown/city/cool-kid world, the intellectualism of it all… And Lucy fitting right in with it perfectly.

_That_ was her life. Not time travel. Not trying to save the world. And certainly not some half-assed, long-distance, part-time-because-of-deployments relationship with a messed-up, reckless, lunkhead soldier from nowhereville Texas. Which, honestly, he figured she might have even said yes to trying, just to be polite, because that's who she was. But it never would have worked.

So he'd done them both a favor, talked himself out of doing anything, and just… left. Ducked out of Amy's party with half a wave at her from across the room and headed back to base the next day. And for the most part, then just tried to push Lucy out of his brain in the hope of just getting over her while she lived her life without him.

But n-

"Who's Lucy?" Nate asked suddenly, cutting into Wyatt's daze.

He looked up, caught off-guard. "Nobody," he lied.

Nate snorted. "Sure about that? Gonna burn a hole through that thing," he added, nodding down to where Wyatt still gripped his phone tightly, Lucy's text front-and-center on the lit-up screen.

Wyatt shook his head with a sigh. Caught red-handed. "She's…" he started, then thought better of it and reiterated, "It's nothing."

It seemed for a second that he'd been let off the hook, but as soon as the car rolled to a stop at a red light, Nate turned toward him. "Man, I've known you long enough to know you were married before. Those asses don't," he added, nodding back in the vague direction of where the younger soldiers lived on base in the bachelor housing. "And I know what happened. So I get why you've been alone for so long. But bro," he insisted, "I have _never_ seen you like this."

Wyatt scoffed, even as he reflexively tapped the screen to brighten the message window again. "Like what?"

Nate just chuckled as the light switched to green. "Like… some freaking… sad puppy. Or cartoon character with hearts flashing in their eyes."

Wyatt snorted.

"No, seriously man, back there?" Nate insisted. "Totally dopey smitten-kitten thing going on. Also still going on right now."

"She's just someone from my last assignment. A friend," Wyatt tried to downplay. "_Co-worker_," he stressed.

"Hot?" Nate teased with a smirk.

Prompted like that, Wyatt couldn't have stopped his brain from going there if he'd tried. He really should have tried though... _Hot_? Well, yeah, but… She was _more_ than that – whether in some ratty gown in the Pennsylvania woods, a Jackie O suit with Rufus' blood all over it, a silky slip in bed in a some gangster's cabin… topless in a New Jersey jail cell… even in the jeans and sneakers she threw on when they'd had late night missions. "She's… beautiful," Wyatt admitted, before he could stop himself.

Nate just laughed. "You got it _bad_, dude."

Wyatt sighed. He wasn't wrong. But it didn't matter. "She's… totally out of my league," he said, shaking his head. "Different world, man."

"What'd she text?" Nate asked.

"She wants to get coffee," Wyatt admitted reluctantly.

Nate laughed out loud. "Coffee?" he chortled. "So you've already been hooking up and she wants to break it off, or she wants to _start_ hooking up. That's what 'coffee' is."

"Jesus, no," Wyatt denied immediately, recoiling and willing his brain to please, _please _not conjure up any images of that particular suggestion right now. "She's just gonna be in town for a meeting and, I dunno," he shrugged, "just wants to say hi or something. We're not… anything," he finished, deflated.

"In town?" Nate asked. "Oh, she's from up-"

"-north," Wyatt finished. "Yeah."

That clarification earned Wyatt a snort from his friend. "Dude," Nate scolded, "that's dinner, not coffee. Tell her you'll take her out."

Wyatt shook his head vehemently. "No." There was _no_ way he'd be able to make it through _dinner._ Dinner was waaaay too much like a… date. And he was _not_ dating Lucy. He couldn't let himself go there. Hell, even just coffee or a drink… he had to say no even to that.

And though they were nearing their apartment complex, Nate shot a quick glance around and took and impulsive left in the opposite direction. "Maybe I don't go home until you do," he snorted, smirking.

With a sigh and an exasperated head shake, Wyatt threatened, "Maybe I beat your ass."

The jerk had the gall to burst out laughing, pointing out, "Who just benched more than _your_ sorry ass ever will?"

Wyatt scoffed, but didn't have a comeback for that; Nate wasn't wrong on that front. He probably had at least three inches and twenty pounds on Wyatt.

But, in the lull in the conversation, Wyatt's gaze drifted back down to his phone. He tapped at the screen to brighten it again without even thinking.

The next thing he knew, Nate was speaking again. "Seriously, man. Being real."

Wyatt looked up, startled by the sudden grave tone in his buddy's voice. And it was with even more confusion that he glanced around; without him even realizing it, Nate had pulled over, and they were the parking lot of some random IHOP. He eyed his friend quizzically.

"Look, bro," Nate said with a shrug, "this Lucy obviously… affects you. You've been single for a while. _She_ texted _you_. Take her out."

Shoulders slumping, Wyatt just shook his head. "She-"

But Nate didn't even let him get a second word of protest out before he butted in again, instructing, "Even if it's just 'as friends'. Take the woman out to dinner. You never know."

Wyatt snorted. "_I _know. We'd never work, man."

"Take her out to dinner anyway," Nate insisted, undeterred. "She _wants_ to see you. Don't be an asshole."

That gave Wyatt pause. The last thing he wanted to do, friends or not, dating or not (which they were definitely _not_), was to be any more of an ass to Lucy than he already had been so many times since they'd met in that Mason Industries waiting room however many months ago. (Including when he'd left Amy's party without saying goodbye...) For as much as it would be better for both of them to just keep going their separate ways, she _had_ asked. And he could never bring himself to disappoint her if he could help it.

Wyatt eyed Nate skeptically. "And you'll actually turn around and go home if I text her back?"

Nate smirked. "_If_ I approve."

Eyes falling closed, Wyatt took a deep breath. One dinner. He could get through that. So he forced himself to focus on the phone once more, and tapped out a reply before he could second guess himself anymore.

_Hey, I should still be here. Just  
let me know day/time. Can do  
dinner if you want?_

He held it out to Nate for approval. "Good enough for you?"

"Not really," Nate replied with a teasing jeer. "But I'll let it slide. Send it," he added, nodding down at the phone.

It was such a bad idea… There was no way Wyatt should have even been contemplating it… Not when he was trying to put the Lucy stage of his life behind him.

But he pressed 'Send' anyway.

* * *

**Lucy**

\- 08/23/2017 Wed -

_Hey, I should still be here. Just  
let me know day/time. Can do  
dinner if you want?_

**5:14 PM**

* * *

Feeling defeated, Wyatt offered up his phone to Nate as evidence that he'd sent the message. "Can I go home now?"

While his snort still indicated that he wasn't exactly impressed, Nate gave in and threw the car back into drive.

Wyatt was grateful that his friend remained silent for the rest of the ride back to their apartments; his stomach was in knots as it was, just sitting there waiting for whenever Lucy would reply.

Thankfully, the drive was short, and with Wyatt having had just about enough of having to publicly deal with the emotional turmoil that Lucy's text, he was ready to jump out of the car when Nate rolled up to in front of his building.

But before he could get out, Nate spoke up. "Hey," he said seriously. "I know nothing about this Lucy girl, but you're into her. Like, a _lot_. Pretty obvious." And with a shrug, he added, "Maybe something happens."

Wyatt froze halfway out the door, hating that part of him did want something to happen. He shook his head and chewed at the inside of his lip. "Nah," he finally countered. "Better if it doesn't. It's just… dinner."

"Jesus, you're hopeless," Nate chuckled. "Get out. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"See ya," Wyatt replied, then closed the car door behind him.

He watched as Nate headed off to the parking lot at the other end of the complex, wondering how in the hell he'd let himself get talked into not only accepting Lucy's offer to see her, but actually taking it a step further and turning it into dinner.

If she even accepted. Maybe she'd only been being polite? And wouldn't want more than a quick drink herself? Wyatt glanced down to where he gripped his phone tightly. No reply.

So he turned and trudged inside the building, the prospect of his looming online language lessons far from enticing.

No reply from Lucy as he jogged up the stairs. No reply from Lucy as he unlocked his door. No reply from Lucy as he entered his apar-

And, oh god… He was going to be checking the damn phone every three seconds until she did reply, wasn't he? Fuck.

Wyatt was under no illusion that the damn Duolingo owl was going to be enough of a distraction from checking his stupid phone constantly. He needed to physically get away from it.

So, before he drove himself crazy, he flung his phone onto the couch somewhere, snagged his ancient iPod and earbuds from his desk, and turned right back around and left the building. He may well have just come from a pretty brutal workout already, but he had a feeling that going for a long jog with music blaring in his ears might have been his only shot at keeping Lucy out of his head.

Talk about trying to run from your problems. He could only hope that it worked.

* * *

**Lucy**

\- 08/23/2017 Wed -

_Hope things are good w you. I  
have a meeting in SD in a few  
weeks. Coffee or drink to catch  
up? If you're free/still around._

**3:38 PM**

_Hey, I should still be here. Just  
let me know day/time. Can do  
dinner if you want?_

**5:14 PM**

_Sure, dinner works. If you have  
time. Thurs Sept 14. At UCSD  
until 5ish. Have to be at airport  
by 845-9._

**6:09 PM**

_Sounds good. You know a  
place? Or should I find  
one? Near airport prob best._

**6:25 PM**

_I don't know SD v well. You  
pick._

**6:31 PM**

_I'll find something. Will let you  
know._

**6:32 PM**

_Ok. See you then._

**6:34 PM**

(*thumbs-up*)

**6:34 PM**

* * *

**TBC...**

_Bah, this site doesn't let me format things the way I want. No right-justify or wingdings/symbols (for that thumb emoji there at the end)? Boo. Sorry :\_


	2. Chapter 2

**I wanted to squeeze this in before the holiday madness gets anymore nuts. Thanks for the lovely reception and kind comments when this fic appeared. I still just love where they were at the end of S1 :)**

**Thanks much to **_**qwertygal**_** for the beta on this. And she posted today too! Go check out that awesome fluff!**

**Happy holidays and new year if I don't resurface here with something else before then!**

* * *

_**This is the time to remember**_

_**Cause it will not last forever**_

* * *

Lucy chewed on her lower lip and glanced at the clock over near the door yet again, trying to be as discreet about it as she possibly could. She'd already been far too obvious, checking her watch over and over. The wall clock seemed safer.

But it didn't matter where she looked; barely two minutes had ticked by since she'd last checked. Only two minutes of the roughly two hours and eleven minutes left to go before she saw Wyatt. And, really, she didn't know if the fact that it had only been two minutes was a good thing or a bad thing.

Because, how she was feeling about seeing him? Well, since they'd first texted those tentative plans a few weeks ago, her feelings had run the gamut from excited, to nervous, to dreading it, to just missing him so badly. Not to mention freaking _hopeful._ Which she hated herself for. Because he owed her _nothing_. And she truly _expected_ nothing. Other than just having dinner. They'd been colleagues. That's it. Granted, they, and Rufus as well, had been thrown together in situations far more intense and personal than say, these colleagues at the meeting here with her, but still colleagues nonetheless. And even if that's all they ever were and all they'd ever be, she was still glad that she'd invited him out while she was in town.

But that damned hopefulness… Well, let's just say that she'd gotten up an hour earlier than she'd needed to. Her hair and makeup were done with a little more care, her legs a little smoother, and other… _places_ a little more… neat… than they ever would have been for just meeting colleagues for a planning session.

Because, though Lucy really, truly, fully expected _nothing_ to happen, on the off chance – on the off, tiny, _miniscule_, essentially nonexistent chance – that something _did_ happen that could maybe, possibly lead to her skipping her return flight and spending the night at Wyatt's place, she'd never be able to say no to that. So she had to be ready.

Not that anything was going to happen. Not even close. She knew that, logically. That didn't mean her emotions were willing to play along.

She peered up at the clock again. Two more minutes.

God, she was pathetic.

At least earlier in the day she'd been able to push thoughts of this evening aside and throw herself into the meeting with gusto. Ignoring the Wyatt issue, she really did love the notion of this workshop they were putting together. It was probably overkill that they'd all trekked all the way to San Diego, since much of what they'd talked about could have been done over Skype – some participants hadn't been able to come and ended up logging in remotely anyway – but Lucy supposed that maybe it was a little more productive to have most of them there. They were putting together some really great sessions, with some really great speakers that they planned to invite. It would be an amazing networking opportunity for researchers in the community who were all working on similar things but never quite had enough time to make collaboration a priority absent some formal, external incentive like this. Not to mention that it would also be a wonderful experience for all the students – graduate and even some undergraduate – that they'd be able to fund to attend.

But as the initial post-lunch surge in productivity began to wane, and the mid-afternoon caffeine break not doing quite as much as anyone would have hoped to revive the efficiency level of the morning session, Lucy's mind began to wander a little more often.

To Wyatt.

Which was going to drive her crazy if she let it.

So she shook herself out of her anxious daze as best she could and forced herself to focus on the travel grant budgeting spreadsheet in front of her. Wyatt or not, she still had her job to do. And spacing out while leaving the others to plan the whole workshop wouldn't exactly reflect particularly well on her when it came time for her next tenure application when she needed letters of support from non-Stanford people like the ones sitting in the room with her right there.

Lucy managed to survive the remaining two hours, though just barely. She was pretty sure she'd ended up nervously bouncing her leg so much toward the end that the table had been shaking at one point.

When the head of the meeting finally called it a day, people lingered, side discussions springing up, talk of who had flights when, who was staying until the next morning, and would anyone be up for grabbing dinner, or at least drinks.

She felt like an absolute idiot when she stumbled through a stilted 'thanks-but-no-thanks' with no further elaboration when a few colleagues asked her if she had time for a drink. So rather than prolong that particular discomfort, Lucy just gathered up her bag and made a quick exit to the hallway, leaving her fellow historians behind. Before heading to her rental car in the parking lot, she ducked into a bathroom along the way.

Once inside, she set down her bag and glanced in the mirror.

She looked… Well, she looked like she'd just spent hours upon hours in a stressful meeting. On top of having woken up before dawn to drag herself to the airport to get smushed into a plane with a hundred other people like sardines.

With a sigh, Lucy ran her fingers through her hair, trying to simultaneously tame the bit of wayward frizz and fluff the waves that had gone a little limp.

Her makeup? There wasn't much she could do for her eye makeup at that point, though she did dig into her bag for something to touchup the dark circles. Hopefully it took the edge off the zombie look. She hadn't brought anything for her cheeks, so she tried her best to pink them up with some pinches to get the blood flowing. She added another layer of lip tint, and that was about as good as she could hope for.

Lucy regarded herself in the mirror once more.

She sighed. It didn't even matter. It was Wyatt. Just dinner with a friend. A colleague. It didn't matter what she looked like. Hell, he'd seen her in all sorts of dirty, tired, and generally bedraggled states. So it hardly mattered what she looked like now.

As satisfied as she was going to get, Lucy grabbed her bag once more and headed for the parking lot. Once in the car, she grabbed her phone and pulled up the address of the restaurant that Wyatt had suggested. Some local brewery. He'd never been, but had heard good things and it was less than ten minutes from the airport. So, setting Google Maps to guide her, she headed out.

Of course, there was traffic.

And then there was construction.

Which Google didn't know about, so Lucy ended up in the wrong lane for her exit.

So she ended up missing it.

Which made her late.

And made her have to figure out the next step while in bumper-to-bumper traffic in the middle of San Diego.

Which meant getting off the highway at a different exit, in a neighborhood she had no idea about, and all the while running later and later.

Which, of course, just exacerbated the nerves that would have been there anyway, the knots in her stomach getting tighter and tighter as the minutes on the clock ticked by.

(And ok, yes, she had to smile when the rerouted Google directions had her turning onto Logan Avenue, but she was still stressed about being late to meet the _actual_ Logan.)

She debated calling him to let him know that she'd be late, but between that would have required futzing with her phone while trying to figure out where in the hell she was going, and she couldn't risk accidentally closing Google Maps and being left to her own devices.

Finally – _finally_ – Lucy made her way to the right address, and breathed a sigh of relief when the brew pub came into view.

Of course, there was no parking to be seen.

Which set her back almost another ten minutes, roaming the nearby streets and then having to dig change from her wallet for the meter. She did, however, pull over and rattle off an apology text to Wyatt before hunting down her parking spot.

By the time made it into the restaurant, she was flustered and late and breathing a little heavy from jogging the few blocks from her car.

So, of _course_ the hostess was useless and just stared blankly at her when Lucy tried to explain that she was meeting someone, and that he'd probably already been seated, and could she maybe just go look around to see if-

"Lucy," she heard faintly from across the bar. Then a cough, and a louder "Lucy!"

Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted Wyatt standing up from a table and trying to get her attention. She'd _missed_ him.

But she couldn't just stand there, so she mumbled an annoyed "That's him" to the not-so-helpful hostess, shot Wyatt a "Hi!" and a wave, and then hurried across the restaurant.

For as much as Lucy would have liked to pull him into a tight hug and never let go, this wasn't pulling him from a death chamber after having been kidnapped herself. It wasn't him escaping from prison. It wasn't even him offering to go save her sister.

It was seeing a colleague she hadn't seen in a while.

So, just as she had earlier that day, Lucy held her bag with one hand, and reached out the other for a single-armed, shoulders-barely-touching, polite, impersonal, colleague hug.

Her one concession to what she really felt was, once she felt Wyatt's arm around her, to let her eyes fall closed as she admitted a hushed "It's good to see you."

She felt his chuckled response rumble through him just before he released her. "You too."

But when they parted, she was nearly speechless again. He looked _good._ Like perfectly-scruffy, obviously-been-working-out, classy-blue-button-down-with-sleeves-rolled-up-for-late-summer-and-in-the-exact-same-shade-as-his-eyes(-which-seemed-to-practically-glow-a-bright-blue-in-the-dim-lighting-of-the-pub) kind of good.

Which left her a tiny bit speechless.

And then feeling a lot bit stupid for being a tiny bit speechless.

It was at least a slight consolation when he didn't seem to know what to say either.

Lucy had just about gotten her brain to work again, with an apology for being late on the tip of her tongue when a waitress approached. The woman eyed them curiously and gestured for them to sit.

Wyatt laughed, but Lucy winced, feeling even more stupid for having to be told to sit and not just stand there like an idiot.

They were still getting situated when the waitress piped up, asking them both if she could get them anything to drink.

Lucy glanced down to see what Wyatt had gotten, but was surprised when she realized that he had been waiting for her for well over twenty minutes, with nothing in front of him but a glass of water. "You didn't get something already?" she asked, frowning.

With a nonchalant shrug, Wyatt just shook his head with a smile. "Figured I'd wait for you."

"Ugh," Lucy groaned, feeling terrible that he'd been there alone, waiting. "But I'm late. There was traffic, and then construction, and- You didn't have to wait."

"Lucy. Really," he assured her, "it's ok."

But it wasn't. Not really. Lucy grimaced. "Yeah, but-"

"So did either of you want anything?" the waitress interrupted.

Lucy winced all over again. Talk about feeling like an idiot. "Sorry," she apologized to the waitress. "Yes, just give me _one_ second," she said, grabbing one of the beer lists from the table top. She scanned the massive list of draughts, and, flustered, urged Wyatt to go first.

She could hear him order some sort of IPA rather quickly, so she rushed to zero in on anything that looked interesting, so neither the waitress nor Wyatt had to wait for her any longer. "Um, could I have a _Sour Wench Blackberry Ale_, please?"

The waitress nodded and replied, "I'll get those right out for you two while you have a look at the menu," before disappearing as suddenly as she arrived.

Lucy took a deep breath, relieved to finally be just… _sitting_ after the crazy drive to get there and then… whatever that was when she'd gotten to the table.

Of course, as soon as she glanced over at Wyatt, she was greeted with a wicked smirk. Not unlike that very first time they'd met.

She looked back in confusion, not sure what had prompted the look.

He lifted an eyebrow before teasing, "A… 'wench'?"

Lucy felt her cheeks warm; of course he'd pick up on that. She rolled her eyes, defending herself with a simple, "It sounded good."

That earned her a laugh from Wyatt, and she had to giggle a little in return. Not all that different from interactions they used to have. Or at the least the ones that hadn't involved time travel and guns and other forms of mortal danger.

But then… nothing. He didn't say anything, and she didn't know what to say. He just kind of… _looked_ at her, and as much as she didn't mind looking at him, she didn't feel she could actually _do_ that, so she stupidly spat out the first thing that she could dredge up that resembled reasonable conversation. "What are you even _doing_ here?" she asked, wondering aloud what she'd been curious about since she'd first texted him about her trip.

Which earned her the teasing eyebrow again. "Uh, you invited me?"

"No, I know," Lucy huffed defensively before turning more serious. "But… didn't you say you'd get a new mission? Or deployment? Or whatever?" she asked, then admitted, "I didn't think you'd actually be here. At Pendleton."

Yet another smirk. "So you only invited me because you thought I wouldn't be able to come?" Wyatt ribbed.

"No, I-" Lucy spluttered, embarrassed exasperation growing. "I just didn't think you'd be around," she rephrased. I'm glad you are," she added honestly, trying to tame the apparent runaway teasing. "It's good to see you," she emphasized again.

It seemed to do the trick, because right away, Wyatt was back to quietly watching her before giving a slight nod and repeating, "You too."

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath. If it wasn't the mocking banter, it was this. This disquieting, too-serious… _intensity_. She couldn't quite figure out what to make of either of them.

Desperate for some sort of middle ground, she forced out a bland pleasantry. "Well, how _are_ you? Since you are still here? _Why_ are you still here?" she then heard herself asking, still curious about why he wasn't out on another mission already. "Aren't you… good? Isn't that why we- …got you?"

"I, uh- '_good'_?" he started, then rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Pretty sure I have a lot of superiors who would disagree with that."

Lucy shot him a bit of an exasperated glare at the self-deprecation and false modesty.

"Ok, yeah, I guess I'm good. Whatever that means," he admitted, shaking his head and looking down into his glass. With a sigh, he went on to explain, "I missed the guys getting shipped out for a big op by a month or so." He shrugged with another slight shake of his head. "They could put me on something more… routine, but then if I'm already involved in that when something else big comes up-"

"-then they wasted their valuable reckless hothead," Lucy surmised with a smirk, finally able to get in a little gentle taunting of her own.

"Exactly," Wyatt confirmed with a grin. "So I cool my heels here for a while. Which means I got to see you," he added, his grin turning more solemn.

Her heart thudding a little faster than it had been, Lucy swallowed hard at his statement. And they were right back to the awkward silence yet again.

The waitress, bless her little heart (and her timing) chose that exact moment to arrive with their drinks, and Lucy was never more grateful for the oddly purple beer that was placed in front of her. "Thank you," she chirped.

Wyatt reached for his glass and held it up in her direction. "To… whatever your meeting is that got you down here."

Lucy managed a wan smile, not really sure _what_ she was currently feeling about the meeting that had brought her to that moment, in that brewery, with Wyatt. Still, she lifted her drink to his. "Cheers."

Once they'd both had the requisite tastes of their drinks, Wyatt set his back down, a thoughtful look on his face. "…what _is_ your meeting?" he finally asked. "It's still summer. Ish. What professor-y stuff are you doing down here, now?"

"Oh, it's just for this workshop in the fall," Lucy explained. "We're just planning. There's a few people from my department that could have done it, but they agreed to re-evaluate my tenure package after another year, so I have to do everything humanly possible to look good on paper this time," she added with a sigh. "So I get to be our department's rep on the planning committee."

Then she realized, for as awkward as certain moments of their night were proving to be, she already knew that she'd do it again in a heartbeat. And that she hadn't actually told him she'd be back… "I'll be here again… I don't know, I think in another month?" she admitted tentatively. "For another one of these? Then we have the actual workshop for a few days in November. And then sort of a post-mortem day a few weeks after that."

If Wyatt was entertaining any thoughts of possibly seeing her again on those trips, he didn't let on, instead zeroing in on the work involved. "Plus all the teaching?" he asked, wincing.

"Yeah. It's a lot," Lucy conceded. "But kind of a good crazy, you know?"

"As opposed to… ya know," Wyatt said, rolling his eyes, not able to say it given the crowds around them, but very clearly implying the insanity of their time travel escapades.

Which also implied that the time travel flavor of crazy had been a 'bad crazy'. And for as much as she probably should have considered that to be true, Lucy couldn't really bring herself to think of it that way, considering that it was the only way she'd have ever met Wyatt.

"No," she contradicted immediately. "I mean… kind of," she then amended, because there was no avoiding the fact that there _had_ been downsides. "But it wasn't _all_ bad," she pointed out, even aside from meeting Wyatt, which obviously she couldn't say to him. They got to _travel through time_. "I mean- what we got to do? It's really pretty amazing."

Wyatt gave a soft snort, almost in awe, as he agreed, "No shit." But after a moment of both of them reflecting back on that, he spoke up once more, but with a change in topic. "How's Amy?" he asked.

Lucy couldn't help but smile at the mention of her sister. "Good," she replied, still grinning. At least until she recalled the last time she'd seen Wyatt. Amy's podcast party. Where he'd just… left.

Not that she blamed him; she herself had been rather wrapped up in helping Amy organized the event. But it had meant that she hadn't really gotten to say goodbye. Or to tell him how grateful she'd been.

With a sobered deep breath, Lucy fixed her gaze on him. "You know, I- You left so fast, that last night," she rephrased quietly. "I never got to thank you, Wyatt. For helping get her back."

He brushed her off. "No need," he said, shaking his head before lifting his glass to down another slug of beer.

But Lucy wasn't going to let him brush it off that easily. "No, really," she insisted. "I know it… wasn't any easier than any other trip. I really appr-"

"Lucy," he cut her off, his tone serious as he set his drink down. "There was no way I wasn't going to help."

Her breath caught in her throat yet again, his wide-eyed gaze suddenly almost too intense.

"Did you need a few more minutes," their waitress cut in, "or are you ready to order?"

Lucy blinked hard, shaking her head. Right. The menu. "Oh, sorry, uh-"

But Wyatt, seemingly unaffected, just calmly requested, "Just another minute, please." Then, once the waitress departed, he nodded over at Lucy. "What are you thinking?"

She almost laughed. What she was _thinking_? She was thinking about how much she wished things were… different between them.

But he meant dinner.

So Lucy glanced down, skimming the descriptions quickly. Everything sounded great, and were she with Amy, it was the kind of place where her sister would have coaxed her into trying something off-beat and unique. But… in all honesty, Lucy just kind of wanted a burger.

"Probably just a cheeseburger," she admitted sheepishly.

"Same," Wyatt said, looking a bit surprised. "They're supposed to be pretty good."

He was able to catch the waitress' attention and wave her back over.

Orders placed, it left them at a bit of an impasse once again after the waitress walked away. So Lucy was grateful when Wyatt merely nodded over at her beer, asking, "How is that? It's really… purple," he added with a bit of a wince.

"It's good," Lucy protested defensively. And were it someone else there with her – Amy, a friend from her department, even maybe Rufus – she'd offer a taste, no hesitation. But… were she and Wyatt really in a glass-sharing kind of place? It's not like they were being forced to share a canteen or ladle of water out of necessity. Here, at a bar, wasn't it too… casual and familiar? But… "…do you want to try it?" she offered anyway.

She wanted to take it back as soon as she said it; Wyatt's eyebrows rocketed up in surprise right away. But, to _Lucy's_ surprise, just as quickly, he schooled his expression back to something neutral and accepted with a nod. "…uh, yeah. Sure."

So what could she do but nudge her pint over in his direction?

He reached for the drink and took a sizeable sip, then slide it back over to her with an unreadable expression.

"So?" Lucy prompted playfully.

"It's…" Wyatt drew out, finally conceding, "actually a lot better than I thought it would be. I like it."

Lucy grinned triumphantly, taking her own sip of the purple brew.

That out of the way, Wyatt brought the conversation back to their shared history. "So how's Rufus? You see him and Jiya much?"

"They're good," Lucy exclaimed, then pulled back a bit, feeling a tad guilty. "I mean, um, I've only seen them… twice? Three times? I wish it was more," she sighed, "but we're all busy. They're… doing who knows what for Mason now. And I'm pretty sure they'll move in together soon. Sounds like Rufus practically lives at her place anyway."

"Yeah," Wyatt said with a nod, "I've seen some things on Facebook. That's great," he added, smiling. "He's a good guy. They're good for each other."

"Yeah, it's nice," Lucy had to agree, in spite of the twinge of jealousy that always gnawed when it came to seeing what her friends' relationship had blossomed into.

With that, she watched as Wyatt took another drink of his own beer, looking away across the bar as he set the glass back down. He cleared his throat, then asked casually, "How 'bout you? Getting out there at all?"

Well, that's not what she would have expected from him…

Hearing that, Lucy was never more grateful for the dim lighting of the bar given that was entirely sure that she blushed fire-engine red before Wyatt even finished his question. _Why_ did he want to know?

Just making conversation, she scolded herself before she could get carried away with any other possible explanations. He was just trying to avoid any more awkward silences, since she sure as hell wasn't doing anything to ameliorate those…

But… _dating_? Lucy dropped her gaze self-consciously; she couldn't very well admit that _this_ was the closest she'd come to a date in a long time.

And that the reason for that was because _he_ was the only person she really wanted a date with.

"Oh, no…" she stammered, flustered and grappling with trying to come up with something that didn't make her sound astoundingly pathetic. "I've…" she trailed off, mentally debating mentioning the _okcupid_ profile that Amy had insisted on, considering it would at least make her look normal-ish, like she was at least trying… But Lucy ended up keeping that to herself. Silly as it might have been, the last thing she wanted – if there was even the _slightest_ chance of something ever happening between them – was for Wyatt to think she was out there scouring the internet for someone that wasn't _him_.

So she hurriedly switched gears, opting for a different flavor of pathetic, seeing as it was at least one she was more comfortable discussing with Wyatt. "…I've been a giant nerd all summer. Well, always," Lucy joked, finally looking back up at Wyatt as she rolled her eyes in self-deprecation, "but even more. I have to _teach_. History that I don't _know_," she admitted, punctuating it with a soft snort of disbelief as the nerves induced by Wyatt's dating questions gave way to the nerves she'd been feeling all summer in anticipation of her impending return to teaching. At least those were nerves that she could talk about with him.

"Can you imagine – me now going into a classroom and trying to tell these kids that John Wilkes Booth was actually the one to kill Lincoln?" she hissed across the table, keeping her voice low. "Or that there were no major problems the day Armstrong walked on the moon? I've been reading textbooks for _months_, just trying to make sure I know enough that I don't come off as insane because I'm talking about something that never happened now."

Wyatt chuckled in reply, though his grin quickly faded into a pensive frown. "Is there really that much that's different?" he asked. "Other than the big stuff we saw?"

Lucy let out a shaky breath, exceedingly grateful that Wyatt had latched on to the new conversational angle. Otherwise she'd have felt obligated to reciprocate and politely inquire about whether he was dating or not. Which she really just didn't want to know. If he was… well, ignorance is bliss. Even worse would have been awkwardly leading them down a path that somehow led to a mention of Jessica, which… Well, he'd mentioned moving on from the past once, but that same conversation was also the one that had held the mention of possibilities, which had obviously turned out to mean absolutely nothing, so…

Either way, Lucy was for more comfortable with the conversation heading back in the history direction. "Not a ton," she replied, "but… enough. Even some little things snowballed so there were changes later that were still effects of other stuff from earlier."

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he remained silent for a second. "You think there was ever a way around that?" he eventually wondered aloud. "I mean, ok, no, Flynn shooting guys like Lincoln and Benedict Arnold… That was always gonna mess things up, but like, what if someone just sort of… went… some _time_… and just… sat there and watched stuff happen?" he postulated. "Would that still have changed stuff?"

"I don't know," Lucy sighed. "You know, sometimes I wish we could have done that," she admitted. "Every time, there was …_something_. Usually something _terrifying_." She caught Wyatt's eye for a split second there, and they shared a grin before Lucy sobered again and continued. "Even just getting Amy, so much was at stake. It would have been nice to just… go. Like… just be in the crowd at a shuttle launch or something. You know? Go see one of your Bond movies in the theatre the day it came out," she added, for Wyatt's sake.

He laughed in return. "Right?" he agreed, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "Big sports games. Concerts. Woodstock."

That suggestion caught Lucy off-guard. Before she could stop it, a whisper of an image of Wyatt, naked and fit, possibly even wet in the rain, amongst the free-spirited crowds of Woodstock, flitted through her mind.

Hardly what she needed to be thinking about. Not when she was back to actually managing to have a normal conversation. Or at least as normal as it could really get between them, considering that the bulk of what they had in common that they even could talk about was _time travel. _Lucy quickly shook off the wayward mental image and forced herself to focus.

"I guess that's what they would have done when testing the lifeboat at first, right?" she said with a shrug. "Not Woodstock, but just going… some time and not going anything?"

"I guess," Wyatt agreed. Then, after a beat, he smirked over in her direction, and suggested, "You should ask. See if Mason would ever let you just… go see something."

Lucy couldn't help but smile at the notion, thinking wistfully of the million and one things she'd love to be able to witness. But it was a bittersweet wistfulness, considering that even if she did get to try something like that, it likely would be on her own. She forced a grin over toward Wyatt and pointed out, "I don't know. Even if he said yes," she teased, "it wouldn't be the same without Flynn holding a gun to my head and you having to get me out of it."

Wyatt chuckled at that. "I think you could consider that a _good_ thing," he replied.

Which, yes, Lucy certainly realized. The lack of Flynn and guns would be good, but… she just deflected with a non-committal shrug. She'd meant it mostly jokingly, but in truth, she'd done it once for the Lindberg trip, and it just hadn't been the same without Wyatt. It _wouldn't_ be the same without him, if she ever got to jump again.

Thankfully, their dinners arrived just then, giving Lucy another out before her mind ventured too much further back into the 'pining-for-Wyatt' territory that it had been flirting with all day.

Also thankfully, Lucy managed to stay on safe mental and conversational ground as they made their way through their meals. She filled Wyatt in on a bit more about having Amy back, and what Amy was like in general, since he'd never ended up really interacting with her at the launch party. They both lamented again about not having kept up with Rufus enough since the end of the missions with Mason. Wyatt also asked more about the upcoming semester, leading Lucy to delve a little deeper into her worries about teaching again and her last shot at tenure. Of course, he managed to both assure her that she'd be great and have her doubling over laughing when he regaled her with his own recent forays into teaching, albeit informal teaching.

Apparently, he was putting what he'd learned from her on missions to good use by absolutely freaking out the younger soldiers he'd been tasked with mentoring. Turned out that whenever there had been some serendipitously-timed discussions over US military tactics in Germany in World War II, the Alamo, or the American Revolution, Wyatt's oddly perceptive and detailed level of knowledge of certain things had unnerved the younger kids, and, after telling them (in jest) that such stuff should be common knowledge, had them all panicking and thinking they'd need that level of historical awareness if they planned to aim for Delta Force someday.

Lucy was still giggling at that over the remnant French fries on her plate when their waitress reappeared, asking, "Anyone have room for dessert? Coffee?"

She cared little about the food or coffee; Lucy just wanted more time with Wyatt. But a quick glance at her watch told her that she really needed to leave for her flight soon. Deflated, she lamented, "I should actually get to the airport…"

Of course, he just gave a good-natured smile and told the waitress, very matter of fact, "No dessert then."

"Just the check, please," Lucy chimed in, still reluctant for the evening to end, but knowing that she had a plane waiting.

And a rental car, she realized. It wouldn't take that long to return, but she had indeed managed to forget about those extra ten or fifteen minutes that she hadn't needed when she'd called a cab at home that morning.

She did a quick mental calculation; she'd be fine, but after alcohol with dinner, plus the water to ensure said alcohol didn't hit too hard, she was going to need to pee. And as much as she didn't like sacrificing a few extra minutes with Wyatt, she also didn't love the idea of still standing in a line at the airport restroom while they boarded her flight.

With the waitress gone to get their check, Lucy stood up, reluctant. "I'll be right back," she murmured. "Bathroom," she added as a quick explanation, before Wyatt could ask. And she headed off with a soft chuckle to herself. She'd never been one to love announcing that to dates (not that Wyatt was a _date_…), but in this case, considering he'd already witnessed her having to duck behind a tree or shrub in the middle of nowhere many times over, it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.

Still, awkward or not, she didn't like wasting any time that could have been spent with Wyatt, so she hurried off to the restroom as quickly as she could.

* * *

Wyatt couldn't help but watch Lucy as she walked away across the restaurant. She... was _amazing_.

At that thought, he snorted inwardly and forced himself to tear his gaze away from where she was ducking into the hallway leading to the restrooms.

Of _course_ Lucy Preston was amazing. What, had he somehow been deluded enough to think that she _wouldn't_ be? That she'd somehow be bland and boring, just because it was a few months later and they weren't flitting through time anymore?

And not only _was_ she amazing… she _looked_ amazing too. She'd always been beautiful to him, and she'd managed to look so… _right_ in pretty much everything, from any time period. But between the jumps, things had been chaotic. Not to mention rainy winter in San Francisco. Which meant, as far as regular clothes had gone, he'd pretty much only seen her in pretty plain jeans or pants, sweaters or professor-y tops, and boring boots or sneakers. But tonight? Late summer in San Diego? Suffice it to say that when he'd seen her come in the door, his jaw had dropped a little, and it had taken a moment for him to register that he should get up and signal to her instead of just staring like an idiot. It was just that the abstract, flower-print-looking flowy skirt to her knees and silky, gauzy sleeveless blouse-thing with the buttons and the lace, and those pretty ballet-looking shoes… It was somehow softer, and prettier, than he had ever seen her dress before, and it had kind of left him dumbfounded at first.

Not that he wasn't always when it came to Lucy…

Wyatt let out a soft sigh. It had been months, and nothing had changed. Watching her walk off to that bathroom felt no different than watching her head off to her mother's place before they'd gone back to save Amy. Both times, he'd been struck by how far he'd fallen for her, only to be facing not seeing her again. The only difference? That first time, he was only realizing the depth of his feelings. This time? Just confirming what he really already knew, no matter how reluctant he was to admit it to himself.

Another scoff slipped out as he shook his head. It still didn't _matter_ how he felt.

_Did_ it?

Wyatt frowned. It didn't. It was crazy to be thinking that, even if Lucy _did_ feel the same way (she didn't…), they could somehow make something work.

Right?

It was stupid, but, god, the longer they'd sat there in that restaurant, the more he was starting to wonder if maybe-

"Here you go," declared their waitress, suddenly having reappeared to slide the little check holder on the table.

Wyatt shook himself out of his stupor with a cough. "Hang on," he said, reaching for his pocket. Giving the bill a cursory glance to make sure nothing was wildly amiss, he tugged a credit card from his wallet and handed everything back to the waitress right away. "Here. Thanks."

He chuckled as the waitress walked off. He'd hear about that from Lucy when she got back; he and Rufus had both been on the receiving end of more than one tipsy lecture from her when either of them had sprung for the whole tab – including Lucy's share – any of the times they'd all let off a little steam at a bar after a mission. She might not be a 'fancy delta soldier person or a physics-y science brain person', but she can take care of herself, thank you very much.

But call him old-fashioned, or just a backwards Texas hick; Wyatt certainly wasn't going to let her pay when it was just the two of them. Even if it wasn't a date. Which it wasn't.

The waitress returned then, slipping his card and the receipts back onto the edge of the table. He snagged them, did the quick math to add a tip, and moved to sign. But just as Wyatt was scribbling his name, his prediction proved true.

"Wait, you pai-" Lucy blurted out in protest. "No," she admonished, collapsing back down into her chair, "_I_ invited _you_."

Wyatt smirked as he finished with the pen. Suppressing a smile, he tucked his credit card back into his wallet and shoved the wallet back in his pocket. Pretty much exactly as he'd expected. And, he realized, looking back up at her, the disapproving pout she wore as she glared at him was even more endearing than he would have thought.

"My turf, my treat," he countered with a shrug. And then, ever so reluctantly, he pulled himself to his feet. She had to leave, and he wouldn't let himself be responsible for her missing her flight home.

Lucy protested again, not letting it go so easily. "Wyatt…" she said, then her tone softened as she stood up beside him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

He didn't mean to catch her gaze just then, but once he did, all Wyatt could do was admit the gods-honest truth. "My pleasure," he admitted sincerely. "Ma'am."

Maybe it was Wyatt's imagination running away with him in the dim light of the restaurant's ambiance, but he couldn't help but think that, along with the little smile that the 'ma'am' had elicited, Lucy's face flushed ever so slightly, her cheeks tinged a pretty pink for a moment as they both remained there, gazes locked, neither moving.

He was transfixed.

Maybe…

It took someone bumping into him on their way to the bathroom to shake Wyatt out of it.

She had to leave. Nothing was happening.

So he nudged her gently toward the door with a muttered "C'mon", guiding her with his hand at the small of her back until they reached the sidewalk outside.

Which was when her earlier words echoed in his head. "You said traffic before?" Wyatt said suddenly, confused. "In a cab? Do you need a ride to the airport?" he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth ever more hastily as his pulse involuntarily quickened at the prospect of spending an extra ten minutes with her. "I can-"

"Oh, no," Lucy cut him off in a hurry, before softening her tone, almost apologetic. "I- I have a rental," she stammered. "It was actually cheaper than multiple taxis or Ubers would have been."

Wyatt nodded, hating both that he couldn't drive her, and the fact that he was disappointed that he couldn't drive her. "Good deal," he managed to force out. "Where'd you park?"

Lucy started to say something, then paused, frowned, and pulled her phone from her bag. Wyatt had to smile; he could just make out the Google Maps app that she pulled up. It was kind of nice to see that, for all her smarts, she had the same little human shortcomings as everyone else. Like forgetting where she parked.

Eventually, she looked up and waved noncommittally down the block, "I'm just over there, you don't-"

"No big deal," Wyatt assured her, feeling… almost _unable_ to do anything but stay by her side and walk her to her car.

But, like at dinner, during those awkward lulls, Wyatt just couldn't freakin' think of anything to say.

So they walked in silence, but… Jeez, Wyatt could swear that there was something, some… _some_thing, and he just couldn't help but wonder if maybe-

"This is me," Lucy piped up suddenly, breaking that silence. She slowed to a stop in front of some nondescript white sedan that flashed its lights when she tested the keys she was clutching. And then looked up at him with a small smile and a shrug. "Thanks for coming out. It was really nice to see you again."

Wyatt was helpless to do anything but just give her a genuine smile right back. "You too. Ma'am," he added, his smile morphing into a cheeky smirk.

Just as he'd expected, Lucy scoffed and rolled her eyes at the remark.

But then… Then he wasn't exactly sure what happened.

Much like back at Mason, that day before going to save Amy, they just sort of… ended up in each other's arms. And it felt… just as wonderful as it had that day. This wasn't the polite, half-hug/half-back patting when she'd arrived at the bar.

This was _Lucy_. Wrapped around him, in his embrace, fitting perfectly where she was tucked against him. Wyatt couldn't help but let his eyes slip closed as he breathed her in. God, it felt so _right_, her there, with him, and he _so_ wished that they were in some alternate universe, some alternate _timeline_, where the two of them actually made sense and she felt the same as he did.

When it got to be just a little too long, standing there like that, Wyatt reluctantly began to pull away.

Because they _didn't_ make sense.

But Lucy didn't go very far. Her hands lingered on his arms as they broke apart, and she gazed up at him looking so damn beautiful, and it would have been so easy to just reach for her again, sliding his hand around her waist to pull her in, maybe press a ki-

Wyatt felt a buzz against his arm and pulled it away reflexively.

So much for that. Moment over. Which was better anyway…

It took a second after that, but eventually it registered for him that Lucy was still clutching her phone after having pulled it out to check the map for where she'd parked her car. And that she'd received a text alert.

She winced up at him ruefully and tapped at the screen. Then, with a shaky laugh, she held up the screen for him. "Gate change. 4 instead of 8. Important news."

But she didn't make any other move. Not away from him anyway, and she was still looking up at him…

And… maybe the moment wasn't over? Another shaky breath caught in Wyatt's throat. Maybe if-

Lucy jumped again then, obviously startled. And, rattled himself, Wyatt shook himself from his daze to see that the screen of Lucy's phone had once again lit up in her hand.

"Back to gate 8?" he joked softly, inching the tiniest bit closer to her, willing the moment to linger just a little bit longer.

She shot him an apologetic grin, then glanced down to read the notification. "Amy," she corrected simply, with a little smile. "She's picking me up. Don't have to get a cab after all."

Amy.

One little, three-letter name, and Wyatt was right back to that podcast party in San Francisco. _Amy_. And Lucy. And the trendy bar and the chic clothes and the city life and the intellectual friends and the freaking avocado in every bit of fancy food. The life that he didn't fit in. _Lucy's_ life.

_That_ was Lucy's life.

Not ending up with him pawing her in the middle of a dingy sidewalk, after lame burgers and beer, in front of some cheap rental Kia.

The moment may not have been gone after the text about the airport gate change, but it surely was after hearing from Amy.

Wyatt backed off, immediately. He sighed, looking down as if to ensure that the two steps he'd taken away from Lucy had indeed put a reasonable amount of space between then. Then he looked back up at her, defeated, and reminded her with a nod in the general direction of the airport, "Better go, or you won't be on the flight she's waiting for."

For a nanosecond, he thought he could make out the barest hint of wounded confusion on Lucy's face, eliciting a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

But he must have imagined her expression; almost immediately she was acknowledging his comment with a wide smile and reaching for the car door. "Right. Well, thanks again for dinner."

"You're welcome," he replied, taking yet another step back.

She waited a beat, but the next thing Wyatt knew, Lucy was pointing out, "I owe you now." Which of course was ridiculous, and he was just about to tell her just that, when she reminded him of something that hadn't quite registered in his brain earlier in the evening. "I have to come back in a few weeks," she said. "I can pay then."

Wyatt froze.

"If you'd want… to do something again," Lucy then hedged, hesitance evident.

He should have said no. He should have lied about a commitment. He should have said he'd be deployed by then. He should have deflected, declined, demurred or any other '_d_' word that meant 'hell no, I can't torture myself like this again'.

But he didn't.

He was a masochist. A glutton for punishment. God _damn_ the hold she had on him, because before he could stop himself, Wyatt felt the eager words tumbling from his mouth as if he had no reservations whatsoever. "If I'm here, you got it," he assured her. "Let me know."

"Ok," she said, flashing another soft smile. "Bye."

And with that, she swung the car's door open, as if to get in.

For his part, Wyatt stepped back up onto the curb, kicking himself for… well, for basically everything he'd done since first finding that text from her. He'd just turned away when he heard her call after him, her voice a little shaky, if he wasn't mistaken.

" …Wyatt?"

He glanced back, instinctively concerned.

Jesus Christ, she was doing that nervous thing she did, biting at her lip. All he wanted was to be the one biting it for her. Fuck.

"Be safe," she finally said, her voice quiet, but still enough to drag him from that particular fantasy. "If they do send you… wherever," she added.

And of course she was worried about him. Because that's the kind of person she was. Which was too damn good for the likes of him. Wyatt swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

That was that. She gave one more little nod of acknowledgment, and then she climbed into the car.

Safe? Wyatt let out a long shaky breath. _Safe_? A wry laugh escaped at that as he watched her drive off.

It wasn't the kind of safe she'd meant, but hell, his heart, at least, would be safer just about _any_where else they could possibly send him, as long as it was far, far away from her and the goddamned feelings that he just couldn't shake.

**TBC…**

* * *

**In case anyone is wondering, I had them go to the Ballast Point Brewing in Little Italy of San Diego. Like Wyatt, I've never been but have heard good things. Plus I've had great blackberry sour in other places. It is indeed purple! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Time flies, doesn't it? Did not mean to take so long to update this… **

**I hope people are staying safe/healthy/financially secure in these odd times. Strange, isn't it – it's rare that the whole world is dealing with one thing at the same time, but here were all are. Thanks much to healthcare and other essential workers who are out there, at risk, for the rest of us. Thanks to those of you who can, and do, stay home to stop the spread.**

**Thanks also to **_**qwertygal**_** for checking this over for me! Though she didn't check the latest version – any mistakes are on me :)**

* * *

**Sometimes it's so easy  
****To let a day  
****Slip on by  
****Without even seeing each other at all**

* * *

Wyatt wrinkled his nose as he ran his tongue over his freshly-cleaned teeth on his way out to the parking lot. Why in the hell did those dental hygienists always make it a point to practically destroy his gums in the name of a mere checkup? It's not like he had bad teeth, so what the hell?

He just hoped his mouth was back to normal by the time he saw Lucy in cas-

No, he chastised himself. _No_. It was just dinner.

…never mind that their last dinner had him about two seconds from leaning in to kiss her. With the mouth that currently felt like it had been torn to shreds.

But he would not let that happen again. It was dinner. Nothing else.

…except the rides he'd promised her, insisting that a rental car was a waste when he could pick her up for dinner and bring her to the airport after. But _nothing_ else. And all that was still only because she'd texted again, insisting that she owed him for paying last time she was in town. Not because he wanted to be with her.

Because he didn't.

…except he totally did.

And he'd had to physically distance himself from his phone multiple times over the past few weeks, lest he give in and allow himself to text her. Or worse, call her.

Of course, his success in resisting those temptations were just going to end up moot, considering that he'd be seeing her in person again in less than an hour, and was just going to end up all tongue-tied and drooling over her yet again.

Since meeting her, and even more so since leaving San Francisco, Wyatt had lost count of how many times he'd wished that he'd met Lucy in some other circumstances, some other timeline, where they were just… different people and actually made sense together. Or that he hadn't been such an idiot and had actually been open to being with her when they were doing the time travel crap, which is when they might have made the tiniest bit of sense together.

But even in those fleeting moments when he was now willing to admit to himself that he wanted to be with her, what he wanted still didn't _actually_ matter. She was the poised, charismatic, prestigious-university professor living in the Bay Area. Nothing was ever going to change that he was the Texas hick, son of a no-good drunk who just went wherever the US Army told him to.

Lucy deserved more than him, that was for sure.

But that didn't stop him from pausing when he caught a glimpse of a florist in the same strip mall as his dentist.

Wyatt let out a wry chuckle at himself and just how pathetic and powerless he was when it came to resisting Lucy... He'd scheduled the dentist appointment to try to keep his mind _off_ her. It made sense to get a checkup and a cleaning before he got deployed anywhere, and since the office was down toward San Diego anyway, it was killing two birds with one stone given that had he stayed up at Pendleton, he'd have spent the entire day getting worked up about seeing her and then getting more worked up about the fact that he was getting worked up about her when he really shouldn't have been.

The dentist appointment was supposed to help with that. But damn that dentist and hygienist for not being behind schedule for once, leaving him with over half an hour of down time before he had to go pick Lucy up at the university, with only his stupid brain to keep himself company.

And apparently his stupid brain had decided to zero in on the freaking flower shop and the notion that he should buy some for Lucy.

Which was ridiculous. It wasn't a date. They weren't in a relationship. There was no need for flowers. Co-workers didn't get flowers for no reason. He wouldn't get them for Jiya, and he wouldn't get them for Agent Christopher. And he knew them in exactly the same context as he knew Lucy.

But before he could talk himself out of it, Wyatt found himself crossing the parking lot toward the florist.

Apparently, he _would_ get flowers for Lucy, because not ten minutes later, he found himself back out in the parking lot, still with sore gums, but this time clutching a small bundle of …daisies, he was pretty sure. Plus some other blue and purple things that he'd already forgotten the name of.

He could still back out of giving them to her, he told himself. He _had_ them, but he didn't have to _give_ them to her. He could hide them in the back of the car, and they'd just be co-workers, and she'd go home to Stanford still none the wiser about just how pathetic he was when it came to her.

Still, when Wyatt reached his Jeep, he couldn't bring himself to toss the flowers in the back.

With a sigh, he flopped into the driver's seat, setting the bouquet on the seat next to him with his phone and the free floss from the dentist.

Fuck. He just wanted to magically be more than a nobody soldier, be living closer to Lucy, and pretty much just be a different person altogether. Then these feelings he was having might have snowball's chance in hell of actually coming to fruition, with him actually in a real relationship with her. Was that really so much to ask?

Wyatt was halfway through a self-deprecating eyeroll when his phone buzzed to life on the passenger seat, Lucy's name popping up bright and insistent on the screen.

And he couldn't help but grin as a few little butterflies took flight in his stomach.

Fuck, he was in _so_ much trouble.

But hey, pathetic as he was, at least maybe he'd get to see her sooner than he'd anticipated. With a swipe of his thumb over the phone's surface, still smiling, Wyatt greeted, "Hey, you done earl-"

"Wyatt," Lucy cut him off, sounding far less enthusiastic than he felt. "I am _so_ sorry. I-"

Wyatt didn't mean to then cut her off, but he couldn't help the breath that escaped him in a deflated "Wh-?"

"The stupid chair of the scheduling committee decided that he wants to add a whole separate session for students," Lucy blurted out, "because he wants to give more of them a chance to give talks, which they wouldn't have done in a regular sessions, because they would have just gotten a poster, but now we have-"

She hadn't gotten to the punchline yet, amidst her rambling, but the sinking feeling in Wyatt's stomach told him all he needed to know. "Lucy?" he cut in once more, trying to prompt her to get to the point.

There was a pause, and then when she did speak again, Wyatt could barely hear her, her voice so quiet and timid as she explained, "We're going to be here until later tonight. We have to rearrange the whole workshop schedule, and they're talking about ordering food later. I can't come to dinner; I am _so_ sorry."

Wyatt set his jaw stoically; it was pretty much what he'd figured from the first word out of her mouth. "Hey, no big deal," he forced himself to reply, keeping his tone purposefully detached and casual. "You're here for work, right? Not me."

"I know," Lucy protested, "but-"

"It's ok," Wyatt insisted, his tone cool. "I'll catch you next time or something."

"…ok," she echoed in a small voice, sounding almost crestfallen, Wyatt realized. Before he could unpack that entirely, she followed it up with yet another timid apology. "I'm really sorry. I- I wanted to see you."

And damn it all, when she _sounded_ like that, saying _that_, he felt helpless to resist bringing up the ride he'd promised. Because what if she really _did_ want to see him?

"…You still need a ride to the airport later?" Wyatt hedged tentatively. "You don't have a rental this time, right?"

"Oh, no," Lucy deflected immediately. "You- you don't have to come down here just for me. I, uh, I'm-" she stammered, "I'll just share a cab with one of the other people with a flight tonight."

Wyatt closed his eyes and shook his head. Clearly if she did want to see him, she didn't want to see him that much.

And _down here_. She figured he was still up near Pendleton, not quite heading out to pick her up yet. So, better to look pathetic and tell her he was already in town, overly anxious about seeing her, and willing to wait around for another five hours for her, but then still get to see her and drive her to the airport? Or be a coward, let her think he's still at home and not so affected by her, keep his distance and let her make her own way to the airport?

He hated himself for it the instant the words started tumbling out of his mouth, but he went full freakin' coward. "Ok," he conceded. "I will… see you around then. Uh, safe flight," he choked out as an afterthought, as if such a pleasantry could somehow help him save face for basically ditching her, even if she _had_ told him to.

"…yeah. Bye," Lucy murmured, softly enough that he had to strain to hear her.

Wyatt wasn't even sure that she was on the line anymore when he offered a lame "Bye…" of his own, so focused on the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach was he.

He stabbed at the 'End call' button with his thumb.

_Fuck_. Fuck, indeed. So not only was he not going to see her, he was _upset_ that he wasn't going to see her, and to top it off, he'd freaking run away with his tail between his legs and couldn't even be bothered to suck it up and bring her to the airport.

And, he noted bitterly as he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat with a little more violence than necessary, now he had the stupid flowers. Stupid flowers mocking him from the other side of the car. Stupid that he got them in the first place, and now even more stupid considering that Lucy's career was always going to come before him – as it should. Because she deserved more than him anyway.

* * *

Lucy's shoulders slumped as she stared at the phone she clutched, Wyatt's name fading as he ended the call. When the screen went black, she let her eyes fall closed and leaned back against the wall behind her.

She felt _so_ stupid.

Biting her lip and willing her eyes not to water, Lucy shook her head. There she was, hiding out in the hallway away from her colleagues, practically on the verge of crying over a cancelled dinner, and Wyatt sounded like he didn't even care one way or the other.

Why the hell was she so… _affected_ by him?

She should have known better by now, shouldn't she? That hint of possibilities that day when they'd gone to save Amy. Only for him to claim he didn't even know what he really meant by it.

And last month… The hug at her car had been déjà vu, and she could have sworn that he was actually going to kiss her that time. And then her stupid phone had gone and ruined it.

Now? Nothing. Not that she'd necessarily …_expected_ anything this time either, but it still would have been nice to see him. Even as friends. Which she'd thought they were.

But given just how blasé he'd just sounded when she'd cancelled? Were they even really _that_?

Lucy sniffed and took a shaky breath, trying to pull herself together. Wyatt wasn't wrong; she was there for work, and they still had a good four or five hours of nit-picky schedule rearranging to deal with. Which meant she was going to have to suck it up and try to focus on the meeting, no matter how much she'd rather have had her own private pity party.

So she pushed herself up off the wall and furtively swiped at her cheeks in case any stray tears had indeed managed to slip out without notice. One more shaky breath and Lucy was able to steel herself to return to her colleagues. Her phone, guilty by association, got shoved in her back pocket as she headed back into the conference room.

The chaos of essentially having to revamp the entire workshop schedule turned out to be mostly a blessing in disguise, because the next couple of hours weren't quite the torture she'd expected.

Until it came time to order takeout for dinner, which just served to remind her that she should have been out with Wyatt for dinner. Which just then reminded her further that Wyatt didn't really seem to want to be out with her.

She ended up barely picking at her burrito, listlessly pushing bits of it around the foil wrapper instead of actually eating much of anything.

Mercifully, the clock near the door finally dragged its hands to where they needed to be for Lucy to have a reasonable excuse to leave for the airport. She was just as grateful that the colleague sharing a ride with her spent the entirety of the drive on the phone with his kid; the last thing she felt up to was inane small talk. Of course, it might have been at least a bit of a distraction, given that without any sort of conversation, Lucy was left only with her own thoughts, which meant wallowing in dejected disappointment, and then feeling dumb for feeling disappointed, for the whole ride to the airport. And in the security line. And waiting at the gate. And for the whole flight. By the time she touched down at San Jose, Lucy was more than ready to just crawl into bed and try to forget everything about the day.

Not that she'd been successful yet in trying to forget about Wyatt, but she could still try. Sleep would at least be a break from feeling constantly on the edge of tears.

Except, Lucy realized glumly, Amy had once again agreed to pick her up. So she'd at least have to deal with her sister before the retreat to bed.

Once off the plane, Lucy trudged to the arrivals doors. She didn't see Amy yet, but made her way out to an empty area of the curb anyway.

God, she just wished that things were different with Wyatt. That he hadn't been married to Jessica, or that she hadn't been killed and they'd gotten divorced instead. So maybe they could have just gotten together earlier, back during their missions, with fewer emotional strings on his end.

Lucy shook her head and practically laughed out loud to herself at that; as if a guy like him would have been single for very long if he hadn't had the mitigating circumstances of his wife having been murdered. And even if he had been, it's not like 'bland, boring professor' was the kind of thing that good-looking career soldiers fell for.

Yeah, it probably would have been better if they'd never even-

"Hello? Earth to Lucy?"

Lucy jumped; she'd been so wrapped up in her misery that she hadn't even noticed Amy pull up in front of her.

Once she'd shaken off the minor shock, Lucy flung open the passenger door and climbed in; she just wanted to get home and sleep.

"Hey," Amy greeted her with a lazy grin.

Shoving her bag between her feet and buckling up – which, of _course_, only served to remind her of the Lifeboat and Wyatt strapping her in – Lucy mumbled a glum "Hi" in response. And with a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head loll back against the seat.

After a beat, the car still not pulling away from the curb, Amy's voice piped up again. "…that's it?" she asked, "No 'yay, my meeting was _so_ productive'?"

Lucy just feigned sleep and remained silent. After the day she'd had, she was not in the mood for conversation, even with Amy.

Amy did finally pull out into traffic, but it didn't stop her from getting in another jibe. "Or even a 'thank you, dearest sister, for staying up late and braving the freaking in_sane_ airport traffic to pick up my sorry ass. _Again_.'?"

Lucy was definitely not in the mood for Amy's snark either. With a wry snort, she spat out an obligatory "Thanks", without even bothering to open her eyes.

She thought she might have been in the clear, but it wasn't long before her sister's voice cut through the quiet in the car once again. "Ok, really," Amy prompted. "Are you ok?"

_No._

"I'm fine," Lucy lied.

"Liar," Amy snorted.

Lucy scoffed, lifting her head so she could stare out the window. Of course she wasn't fine. Of course Amy knew she wasn't fine. But the only reason she wasn't fine is because she was being stupid, and letting herself get way too invested in… something that wasn't even a relationship. Which was just pathetic, so she wasn't about to let Amy in on that information.

Even more pathetic, given that she could feel her eyes welling up. Lucy was grateful that it was dark, and that only one tear managed to escape, but she was still pretty sure that Amy noticed her wipe it away anyway. Mercifully, her little sister chose that moment to have some tact and didn't say anything.

The rest of the ride home was quiet. Lucy could feel Amy's eyes on her as they climbed out of the car when they got back to the house, but once inside, she was left alone in the foyer as Amy headed for the TV and some late-night talkshow.

Lucy eyed the stairs – yet another spot she'd sat in, nearly crying over Wyatt – and sighed. None of it was Amy's fault, and she shouldn't have been so cold to her in the car. So she inched toward the doorway, where she could see her sister texting away as commercials flitted across the TV screen.

"…I'm going to bed," Lucy spoke up haltingly. "…Thank you. For the ride."

With a grin, Amy looked up from her phone and shrugged. "You owe me one."

Lucy tried not to wince at the unfortunate wording. _She_ owed Wyatt a dinner.

But she must not have been as good at hiding her reaction as she'd hoped; Amy frowned in concern, asking, "You sure you're ok?"

"Just…" Lucy bit her lip. "…a long day," she forced out, far more pleasantly than she felt. "We were working on stuff right until I had to get back to the airport." Which wasn't even a lie.

Amy's brow furrowed, sarcastic skepticism all over her face. "Isn't that what you… do?" she teased.

"No, I was-" Lucy managed to catch herself in time; admitting to anything regarding Wyatt was not what she needed to do right now. Any mention of any guy, and Amy latched on hard. And Wyatt was… nothing. So she fudged her explanation a little bit, stating, "We, um, go grab dinner or drinks and stuff. After the meeting." Never mind that the 'we' in question was not the 'we' she was intending Amy to hear it as.

"Oh, I see how it is," Amy snorted, laughing. "A 'work trip' and you dorks just all end up at the bar? And now you're all mopey because you had to actually work on a work trip?"

Lucy gave a weak nod of agreement and forced a shaky smile. "Yeah…"

Amy didn't need to know why she was actually upset. Especially considering that she didn't even really have any good reason to be upset. _She_ was the one who had needed to cancel. Wyatt hadn't done anything wrong, and he didn't owe her anything in the first place. She'd allow herself one cry, one wallow, when she got upstairs, and then she was just going to have to get over it. Get over _him_.

Though Amy was already engrossed in her phone again, Lucy murmured a half-hearted "G'night," and headed up the stairs.

Hopefully sleep would help.

Unfortunately, once Lucy was up in her room, she realized that her own phone was still in airplane mode. And, not even thinking, she switched it back to normal.

There was a bit of a delay while the dated model sorted itself out, but there it was waiting for her when she returned to her room after brushing her teeth.

A text. From Wyatt.

* * *

**Wyatt Logan – cell**

\- 10/05/2017 Thu -

_You get home ok? Let me know?_

**10:28 PM**

* * *

Her heart pounded as she sank down on her bed, biting her lip and trying to ward off the overwhelmed tears she knew were coming.

How could he be so unaffected earlier, and then do _this_? Checking up on her, as if he _did_ actually care? Couldn't he just pick one or the other and stop the back and forth that had been wreaking havoc with her emotions since that afternoon?

It was just too much for her to deal with that late at night, after such a long day.

Feeling defeated, she set her phone on the nightstand, fully prepared to just ignore it – _him_ – for… well, for however long she could.

Except… once she'd burrowed under her covers and flipped off the bedside lamp, the phone – and text – were still there.

Lucy sighed, staring up at her ceiling in the darkness. He'd cared enough to text. If she didn't reply, he might get worried, and-

She allowed herself a hiccuped snort of a stifled laugh at that, even as she wiped away the streak of a tear from her cheek. _Would_ he get worried? Or by tomorrow would he just forget that he'd texted at all?

In the end it didn't really matter, because she was too polite for her own good. She couldn't just _not_ answer.

So she reached for her phone and tapped out the most cursory of replies.

* * *

**Wyatt Logan – cell**

\- 10/05/2017 Thu -

_You get home ok? Let me know?_

**10:28 PM**

\- 10/06/2017 Fri -

_Yes. Home now._

**12:52 AM**

* * *

And with that, she turned off her phone completely. She couldn't even begin to guess at what he might text back, if he did at all. But she didn't need to lie awake waiting for him if he didn't.

Instead, she rolled onto her stomach, feeling a little bit helpless, and a little bit hopeless, wishing, as a few tears dampened the sheet beneath her cheek, that she hadn't had to cancel their dinner.

And wishing that Wyatt had cared a little more that she had.

**TBC…**


End file.
